Welcome back to me!! Finally posted something again! Yay! Please, give it a chance and keep an open mind! And review cause i need all the help I can get :)
Temperance Brennan wondered if it was finally time to give up hope. Her finance had been in a coma for little over 6 months now. Was it time to get serious? To move on? But when she thought of that possibility one thing stuck out in her mind – what would she move onto? She was a heavily pregnant forensic anthropologist who had been through a tremendous amount of stress. How would she function? Would she function?
The doctors were constantly reminding her there was still a chance he would wake up. She just had to keep hope. But Brennan rationalized that hope wasn't going to help. Because, would her wishing he would wake really achieve anything? For the first days she was hysterical, yelling at the doctors to do more. She wanted them to help him in some way. That was there job, wasn't it? To fix things. Not leave it up to her to hope.
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She rushed to the front counter of the emergency room, "I'm looking for Seely Booth. He was brought in a little while ago. There – there was a car accident. Oh god."
"One moment, please," the receptionist said with a small smile, before turning to her computer. Brennan tapped a heel. Then paced a lap in a small circle. Then hopped from one foot to the other. The fear engulfing her heart threatened to drown her. She was certain she'd be sick.
It had been 7.30 at night. She was in high spirits. Her dress had finally come and the florist had pulled through. Despite all her previous beliefs about marriage, she was positively radiant about the coming day. Then, she had picked up the phone to hear Cullen's voice.
"Hello Temperance," she was slightly startled at his use of her first name.
"Oh, Director Cullen, I'm sorry I haven't got the case file back yet. I was craving gherkins today and spent half an hour at the supermar-"
He had cut her off.
"Temperance, it's Booth,"
She had groaned.
"He's going to be late again, isn't he? Could you inform him that if he's not here by tea time I'll lock him out?"
A pause, then.
"Temperance. Seelys at the hospital."
She had sunk to the floor, back against the wall.
"What?" whispered. "How?"
"Car accident."
"Is he – is he going to be all right?" she was bordering on losing it. "I mean, he's fine. Right?"
"Not really," a inhalation. "Temperance, he's in emergency. Doctors are operating. Their not certain he'll make it."
Brennan thought she'd pass out.
"Oh no,"
Now, here she was, dazed and only faintly aware of her surroundings. She could here sniffles of young children, still in their school clothes, holding broken arms. She could hear moans from people clutching their stomachs. She could here screams from the critical patients being wheeled in, covered in blood.
Suddenly, there was a hand on her shoulder. Jumping, she pivoted, coming face-to-face with Director Cullen. In an unnatural and over-bearing wave of emotion, Brennan threw herself into his arms and started to sob.
"Where is he? Whats happening?"
"He's still in surgery," he lead her to a chair.
"What happened?"
"Far as we can tell, he and Agent Brown were pursuing a suspect from their recent rape case down James st. The suspect tried to over-take a car and we are gathering that he didn't see the oncoming truck. He died on impacted. Booth's car slammed into the reckage."
Temperance inhaled and wiped at the tears on her cheeks.
"Brown?"
"Has a concussion and a few fractured ribs. The driver's side took most of the impact," when Cullen looked at Brennan she could see the look of pain in his eyes. He and Booth were close. They had more than a simply boss-agent relationship. They trusted and respected each other. "There keeping Brown under observation for several days."
At that moment a doctor came in the waiting room and zeroed in on them. She was dressed in blood spattered scrubs and gloves. She looked to be mid to late thirties and she had flaming red hair that contrasted greatly with the bags under her eyes. She looked exhausted.
Brennan and Cullen stood.
"How is he?" Cullen asked. Brennan feared that if she opened her mouth she would be sick over the women.
"Out of danger," she replied with a sigh. Brennan almost collapsed in relief. She grasped Cullen's arm and did a uncharacteristic hop.
"He's ok. Did you here that? He's ok,"
"There is ... complications," the doctor continued. Brennan's heart sunk. "He flat-lined several times on the operating table and is still in a critical condition."
"What ...," she stopped. She was unable to think of something to ask. Cullen jumped in.
"What injuries has he sustained?"
"His left radius and fibula have compound fractures, as well as several ribs. That means ..."
"Broken arm and leg," Brennan jumped in, dumbing things down for Cullen.
"Yes, one of the ribs ended up in his lung," Brennan felt the air leave her. "But we stitched it up. He'll need help breathing for a while but that should be ok."
"Ok, ok, that's ok," Cullen said.
"There is also the possibility of some brain damage ..."
A long explanation about effects and repercussions, half a box of tissues and a very wet blouse later, the two doctors and the director were heading up to the ICU ward.
Brennan was certain she would pass out. Walking into the room, not knowing what to expect, she thought there was no way she could cope with all this drama. But she somehow managed to stay on her feet. The site that greeted her was unbelievable.
Seely Booth had always been a firestorm of energy. He was always talking, paced, tapping, shifting. He couldn't sit still for a moment. But know, lying in the hospital bed, he looked weak and fragile.
His eyes were closed and his breathing ragged. He was pale beyond belief, even the 100-times-bleached hospital sheets looked dark. There was a white cast around both his leg and arm and bandages on his chest and head. The magnitude of cuts and bruises was unbelievable.
"Can I?" Brennan asked, unable to take her eyes of her broken finance.
"Sure," the doctor replied. Brennan walked over to his side and, dodging the boob-trap-like-creation of tubes connecting him to various machines, took his hand gently in his. After a moment she spoke.
"When will he wake up?" she asked, in barely more than a whisper.
"Well, we've done all we can. Its up to him," the doctor said.
"Come on, Seely," she begged. "Come back to me. We're getting married in a week, for Pete's sake." The tears began to flow.
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She came to the hospital almost everyday. Except when she had morning sickness with a bad sense of time of day. Physically, he had healed. The superficial wounds were gone and the fractures healed. The damaged lungs were getting better. But mentally, nothing had changed. Occasionally he had dreams but that was it.
She was worried.
Was her child going to grow up without a father? It was due soon. She was 6 and a half months pregnant, after all.
Would she ever get to say "I do?" Twirling her engagement ring in her fingers, she thought that maybe she wasn't.
Brennan knew that there was nothing to do but wait. And wait. And keep hope.
Thats the end! BTW I have NO IDEA which side of the road you people in America drive on. lol I think its opposite to us (so right side, which is creepy) but I dont gamble. Also! I am not a doctor, nor am I pregnant, have been pregnant or will be pregnant! I am 14 years old so forgive me and correct me if I have a mistake!! Cheers!